


Syrios Whumptober

by cristobalrios



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Blood, Brainwashing, Bruises, Buried Alive, Cuts, Hanging, I tagged it as "graphic depictions of violence" but really it's not that graphic, In Medias Res, In the Hands of the Enemy, Let's Hang Out Sometime, M/M, My way or the highway, Narissa is a jerk, Psychological Conditioning, Suicide mention, Waking up Restrained, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, Whumptober Day 3, Whumptober Day 4, broken leg, collapsing building, electric whip, falling debris, gun - Freeform, implied rape, punched, romulan blaster, running out of time, shackled, that's more just to be sure/there might be worse chapters in the future, whip, whumptober day 1, whumptober day 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cristobalrios/pseuds/cristobalrios
Summary: Collection of Syrios fics for Whumptober 2020Day 1 - In Medias Res - Let's Hang Out SometimeDay 2 - In the Hands of the Enemy (Part 1) - In the Hands of the EnemyDay 3 - His Husband's Shadow (Part 2) - My Way or the HighwayDay 4 - Buried Alive (Part 3) - Running Out of Time
Relationships: Cristóbal Rios/Original Male Character(s), Cristóbal Rios/S'vec Sylar, implied past non-consensual S'vec Sylar/Narissa Rizzo, implied past non-consensual S'vec Sylar/Rh'vaurek Maelrok
Kudos: 3
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. In Medias Res

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Countdown To Heaven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292148) by [Telas_Selar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telas_Selar/pseuds/Telas_Selar). 
  * Inspired by [Here We Stand (At The Genesis)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250712) by [Telas_Selar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telas_Selar/pseuds/Telas_Selar). 
  * Inspired by [The Inside Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26484301) by [Telas_Selar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telas_Selar/pseuds/Telas_Selar). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No 1. LET’S HANG OUT SOMETIME  
> Waking Up Restrained* | Shackled* | Hanging*
> 
> Cris and Sylar work together to escape after being held captive by 21st century military men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for the Whumptober 2020 prompt for day 1. Connected with Telas_Selar's fic "Countdown to Heaven"

Cris dangled there, hanging from the building’s window. Their cells were so high up, no one thought someone would be stupid enough to climb out the window, and if they did, that they would soon fall to their death. They might be right about the last part, but Cris was determined to prove them wrong. They underestimated his sheer recklessness when it came to rescuing his bondmate. He knew he was there in the cell next to him, saw them put him in there, but he doubted Sylar was conscious, given the beating he took earlier.

They didn’t know he would be able to get out of their chains, or that he would then use them to swing into the cell next to him, but he did, swung too far and slammed into the wall by Sylar’s window. It hurt like hell, but he used his legs to hook into the window and pull himself into the room. Sylar was there, shackled to the wall, unconscious and bleeding. Cris cursed internally at how beat up he was, worse than him despite the bruises on his wrists from the chains and the cuts and bruises from bashing into the wall. Sylar took the majority of their beatings, despite Cris’s protests. Sylar had been defending him. Cris had to be held back.

“Sylar. Sylar, love, wake up,” he said as he worked to get the chains off of Sylar’s wrists. He frowned when he saw the bruises on Sylar’s wrists as well, and he wiped blood off of Sylar’s face after kissing his wrist. Sylar began to stir and looked up at him.

“Captain. What happened?” Sylar asked in confusion.  
“We’re getting out of here. Can you walk?” Cris asked.  
“… I believe so, sir.” Sylar responded, feeling his legs, stretching them out.  
“Good. I’ll help you.” Cris put Sylar’s arm around his neck and helped him up.  
“You are injured, sir.” Sylar observed, his own kind of concern apparent.  
“You’re worse. It’s—scrapes and bruises, mostly.” And his head.  
“Your head is bleeding.” Sylar pointed out. “Did you hit your head? You may have a concussion.”  
“Out first. Questions later. Please be quiet.” Cris instructed.  
Sylar nodded. “Sir,” he said in confirmation of the order.  
“Thank you.” Cris kissed the side of Sylar’s head as he used his device to unlock the door to Sylar’s cell.

It was almost too easy. It wasn’t easy, it was painful, but their locks had no defense against their technology, and somehow they managed to miss the one device that would actually help them escape (well, a phaser would be helpful too) despite having found all the others. He needs… His combadge. They have it, along with his phaser and his tricorder. The sound of their cell opening alerted the guards, but Sylar lunged forward, his hands touching the guards’ heads, sending them to the ground immediately as he broke their brains and it’s terrifying every time Cris sees him do that, but also strangely attractive, but he didn’t have time to think about it much as more guards came around the corner, shooting at them. Guns, mostly, but it seems one of them was figuring out how their phasers work. Cris grabbed onto Sylar’s arm as he pulled him around the corner.

“Combadge. First priority. Ian can beam us out. We’ll worry about the technology we left behind after we get out of this alive. They have it in a room downstairs. Unfortunately, we are very high up and you can barely walk.” Cris said, as he opened the door that led into the spiral staircase. Cris picked Sylar up as he practically slid down the stairs. If he falls they both go down, and the stairs are sharp, but he didn’t see an alternative. Sylar stared up at him dazedly, and Cris tried to ignore it, though he found it adorable. They got to the bottom of the stairs, and he put Sylar down as he tried to catch his breath.

“Captain, are you alright?” Sylar asked.  
Cris nodded. “I’m fine, just—Give me a minute. Down the hall. I saw them take our stuff down there. Hopefully they’re still there.”  
Sylar nodded. “Stay here, sir, I can get it.”  
Cris looked up at him. “Are you sure you can make it?”  
“I’ll be fine. Stay out of sight.” Sylar told him.  
“Alright. Get back to me in one piece.” He told him as he sat down on the stairs.

His arms hurt. It was a lot of stairs, and they were already injured. It only took Sylar a few minutes to get back to him, and he helped him stand up. Cris took the combadge from Sylar, and called up to La Sirena. “Ian, get us the hell out of here.” He said. “Two to beam up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S'vec Sylar belongs to Telas_Selar. I may edit this more, I'm just getting it up quickly, although it's technically a couple minutes after October 1st ended, it was all written on October 1st before midnight, my time.


	2. In the Hands of the Enemy (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober 2020, No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY*  
> “Pick Who Dies” | Collars | Kidnapped  
> Based more on the phrase than any of the prompts. Kind of kidnapped, I guess.
> 
> Cris and Sylar are needed for a Tal Shiar rescue mission. It's not easy on Cris, but civilians as well as Tal Shiar operatives are in danger, and he's not going to let them just take Sylar for this mission without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay hear me out: I know Narissa dies at the end of Picard, and therefore can’t be alive for this fic, but hear me out; we didn’t actually see her body, she’s the one who fits this, she’s a convenient villain that they have to cooperate with, the parts with Narissa were originally written for a nightmare Cris had, and I do what I want.  
> If necessary, this can still be a nightmare. Or an AU.
> 
> Pretty sure this is a multi-chaptered storyline covering at least prompts 2-5.

After their bonding ceremony, Cris could _always_ feel when Sylar was contacting the Tal Shiar with an update. Or more accurately, he could feel the absence of him. At first it just caused nightmares, that felt different than the ones from his PTSD. It was an ever-present emptiness. Now he has learned to recognize it. Once he realized what it meant, it always wakes him up. He would like to just ignore it. It would make things easier. But instead, when it happens at night, he tiredly goes after Sylar, watches him from a distance. But this was _different._ Not the normal one-way communication Sylar usually does in this state. There was someone else talking back. He was too far away and too tired to pay attention to what was being said, although he tried.

Enoch appeared beside him, “Captain,” he started, causing Cris to jump, and to shush him.  
He turned the corner, dragging the ENH with him. “Shut _up._ What is it?” He asked, once they were away from Sylar enough.  
“There’s a ship approaching.” Enoch told him.  
“A ship? Coming to us, now?” Cris asked in surprise. Enoch nodded. “What the hell?” Cris asked.  
“Sir… It’s Romulan.” Enoch responded.  
Cris cursed, then heard loud Spanish cursing coming from the bridge, and he rushed to see Emmet at the tactical station.  
_“Déjame disparar a estos bastardos,”_ Emmet requested.  
_“No, averigua lo que quieren,”_ Cris told him.  
“Captain, they’re hailing us. They are requesting we lower our shields.” Enoch informed.  
_“Como el infierno lo haremos,”_ Emmet said. But just then, Sylar walked onto the bridge from the other room. They all turned to look at him as he accessed one of the panels to lower their shields.  
“Should we stop him?” Enoch asked.  
Cris shook his head. “They’ll hurt him if we do, maybe make him go after us. I’m sorry. We can’t interfere.”

And that's when she beamed onboard. Narissa, electric whip in hand, and Cris threw himself over Sylar to protect him but all that did was get them both within the whip's lash. It burned their skin.

“Well, Captain, if you want me to whip you, you could just ask.” Narissa said in amusement. Emmet launched himself at her, but she deactivated him, unphased.  
“Get off my ship.” Cris demanded.  
“You haven’t even heard why we’re here yet.” Narissa replied.  
“I don’t care, leave us alone.” He glared, standing firmly between her and Sylar. Emmet reactivated, but Cris shook his head.  
_“Capitán—”_ Emmet protested.  
“Emmet. I’ve got this.” Cris said, and after a few more curses, Emmet deactivated himself. “You too Enoch.”  
“Sir, are you sure?” He asked in concern. Cris nodded, and Enoch deactivated as well.

Narissa rolled her eyes. “You ever wonder if those things will kill you in your sleep and take over the ship?” She asked.  
“No. They _like_ me.” Cris replied with confidence.  
“They’re _simulations,_ they can’t _like_ anything.” There’s the Romulan aversion to AI.

Cris turned to Sylar, ignoring their intruder. He was still unresponsive. To Cris, anyway. Narissa seemed to have his focus. _Sylar, listen to me. Focus on my thoughts, not on her. Taluhk nash-veh k'dular, ashayam,_ he thought to him, forehead pressed against Sylar’s. But he was distant, and cold, and Cris’s chest hurt at the emptiness he felt.

“I don’t think you’re going to protest too much to this mission, Rios.” Narissa said. “It’s a rescue mission.”  
“Release him and we’ll talk. I’m not doing this while he’s activated,” Cris said.  
“Why would you fight against us? We're trying to save people." She said to Cris. "Give him to me, and he’ll help save innocents. Isn’t that what you Starfleet people are all about?"  
“I’m not Starfleet anymore,” Cris reminded.  
“You’ll always be Starfleet,” she countered.  
"You only care about yourselves." Cris said.  
"That's true, but others will benefit too." Narissa replied.  
"I would never let you have him." Cris spat.  
She smirked. "I already have. Have you?"

He pushed himself up to swing at her, but he missed as she moved toward Sylar. Sylar moved forward automatically to stand between the captain and Narissa, to protect her from the captain’s aggression. "Hm. Touchy subject. A pity. He's so pretty and obedient. Well, he did cry out a lot with me." She smirked, running her hand through Sylar's hair and gripped it too tightly, her other hand moving to caress his neck where she had cut to silence him.

"Don't touch him!" Cris yelled.

"He's mine to do with as I please, as he was my father’s." She said easily. "What claim do you have over him?"  
"He's my husband." Cris told her.  
“And yet his loyalty is to us,” she responded. “He hasn’t been answering your thoughts, has he?” She turned to Sylar, enjoying that she had a new toy to play with in Sylar’s not-quite-lover.

She pushed Sylar towards Rios, so he bumped into him, and Cris’s arms immediately latched onto him, cradling him against his chest despite the pain. Cris was not acting as a threat to Narissa at the moment, so he allowed it.

“You know, I can do you a favor, and then you’ll let me take him. You haven’t had sex with him because it would bring up unpleasant memories for him, right? Well, you won’t have to worry about any of that when he’s activated. He won’t have any of those pesky flashbacks, no signs of trauma. I could order him to have sex with you and he would do it, gladly, willingly, with no trouble, and then he’ll come with me. I promise to return him to you when I’m done with him. Captain Rios, we’re on the same side. I have no desire to fight you. You’ve been helpful to us. A good boy who has cleaned up some of our messes and knows how to mind his own business. You are not an enemy of the Tal Shiar. At least not from where we’re standing.”

Cris already knew that. Sylar had said something about that earlier. He hated it even more coming from her. At least he was meant as a good thing from Sylar. From her, it was just condescending. “Let me talk to you privately.” Cris said, walking off the bride.

Narissa raised an eyebrow, but followed him. When Sylar moved to come with them, she held her hand up. “Stay,” she ordered. Sylar obeyed.

Cris immediately rounded on her to punch her in the face. She punched him back, knocking him to the ground a pulling a blaster on him. Cris stared up at her for a moment, then stood up. “Here is what’s going to happen. This supposed ‘rescue mission,’ I will be going along. Sylar will not be harmed. We will cooperate. Sylar doesn’t need to be activated for this. Give us twenty-four hours, he’ll be better, then we can go.” Cris told her, not bothered by the blaster pointed at him.

She lowered it and considered his offer. “You can come along, but Sylar stays activated. We don’t have time for him to recover. We leave immediately.” She counter-offered, wiping the blood from her face.

“… Fine.” Cris agreed.

“You’ll be briefed on the way.” Narissa informed, as she walked back onto the bridge and call to her ship to beam the three of them to a shuttlepod as soon as Cris followed behind her.

_______

In the hands of the enemy is their natural state of being, at this point. Sylar can’t think of the Tal Shiar as the enemy. Literally, he is not allowed to and therefore incapable of thinking it. But nothing was stopping Cris from seeing it that way. He didn’t have any conditioning in his head making him do this, which made him so much worse than Sylar. Every step he took he hated himself more, the fact that he agreed to this at all. He could have just continued to mind his own business, and _try_ to let the fact that he’s only turning a blind eye to it, and not actively participating in it, stave off the ever-growing self-hatred building up in his gut. It wouldn’t work, though. Being complicit in it still made him worth hating. At least this way, he could keep an eye on Sylar. And maybe help some people who didn’t deserve to die. If she was telling the truth at all, and not just what he wanted to hear.

He didn’t see why activating Sylar was necessary. They’re being cooperative. _He’s_ being cooperative. Sylar had no choice, activated or not, he had to obey them, and when someone is hurt, as a doctor, he had to help them. They have no idea how _uncomfortable_ it felt. Painful to Sylar, empty to him. They didn’t care either.

But there were Romulan civilians in danger. Included among them were important Tal Shiar operatives. They needed to get them to safety, then Sylar’s skills as a physician were needed for the injured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> “Déjame disparar a estos bastardos." = "Let me shoot these bastards." (Spanish)  
> “No, averigua lo que quieren." = "No, find out what they want." (Spanish)  
> “Como el infierno lo haremos." = "Like hell we will." (Spanish)  
> "Taluhk nash-veh k'dular, ashayam." = "I cherish thee, beloved." (Vulcan)  
> \----  
> S'vec Sylar belongs to Telas_Selar.  
> Sorry if the Spanish if wrong, I'm still new at it. To see a little more on the "Sylar contacting the Tal Shiar" part, see Telas_Selar's fic "The Inside Man." Narissa also refers to the events of Telas_Selar's fic "Here We Stand (At The Genesis)"


	3. His Husband's Shadow (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY  
> Manhandled* | Forced to their Knees* | Held at Gunpoint*
> 
> Narissa, Cris and Sylar travel to rescue people after a Romulan settlement was attacked. Narissa is a jerk, and bored. Not a good combination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much all three of the prompts, not necessarily the phrase, unless you squint. Slightly late again. Spoilers for Star Trek: Picard S1E8.

They had been briefed on the situation while in the shuttle on their way to the planet. A small Romulan colony had been attacked by a group of anti-Romulan radicals. Nothing has been heard from them in two days, the settlement was no longer detectable. Normally the Tal Shiar wouldn’t deal with something like this, there were other organizations out there who handle it, but several of their agents were in the colony at the time. Agents with important information for the Tal Shiar. Their focus was naturally on the Tal Shiar agents. Everyone else could die for all they cared, they only wanted their agents, and failing that, the information they had gathered. But while they were there, if it was convenient, they could help the civilians. Ideally they would. Losing their homeworld meant there aren’t that many Romulans left. The Tal Shiar did care about their own race, to some extent, as long as it did not interfere with their plans.

Cris kept thinking to Sylar, quietly. Thinking in Vulcan, thinking about their relationship, holding him, trying to bring him back to him, but all he was met with was silence. He didn’t try too hard, because if Sylar really came out of the activation, it would slow them down. Post-activation, Sylar required a lot of attention, and in the back of his mind he remembered Sylar nearly killing himself when he’d tried to snap him out of his activation once, before they were bonded, through Sylar’s touch-telepathy. Sylar interpreted his conflicting loyalties as being compromised, and that therefore required self-destruction. He also remembered Sylar saying once they were bonded, Cris’s ability to reach Sylar in activation would be more effective, but he couldn’t take that risk. His thoughts were for himself, for his own comfort. Sylar was stiff and still, quiet – it felt empty. Sylar was in his arms, but it felt like just a ghost of him. Cris kissed the side of Sylar’s head before he took the helm of the shuttlepod to fly them to the correct coordinates.

They were all quiet once they landed on the planet. Sylar preferred silence, would communicate telepathically over verbally even when he’s not activated. When he is activated, it’s just silence unless communication was necessary, or ordered. Sylar followed Narissa closely, to loyally protect her in his trance. Cris held onto Sylar’s arm as they walked toward their destination. Narissa finally broke the silence.

“You’re so damn quiet it’s almost as if you’re in a trance, too. If I just wanted brainless zombies I wouldn’t have allowed you to come. You know I could have just taken your boytoy, really didn’t need your permission,” Narissa told him.  
“I’m not here for your entertainment,” Cris snapped back.  
“Of course you are.” Narissa turned to look at Sylar. “Activated sleeper agents are always a bit creepy.”  
“Just shut up, I’m not in the mood.” Verbal sparring wasn’t so fun when you and your husband were being coerced to work with your greatest enemy.  
“You know, my offer still stands. Maybe it’ll loosen you up. How long has it been, anyway? From what I can tell, you two have been together for _years_. No wonder you’re so tense. I bet if you asked nicely he’d do it without it having to be an order from the Tal Shiar,” she suggested.  
“My sex life is none of your business,” he shot back.  
“You really aren’t any fun. Your husband would be happier if you didn’t resist us. Well, I say ‘happier,’ but he doesn’t really feel anything, does he?” She pointed out. “Psychological defect, too Vulcan for the Vulcans, but then you come along, take advantage of that vulnerability we created, and suddenly you think he loves you? You’ve surrounded yourself with delusions, things incapable of real emotion but fooled yourself into believing they are capable of caring about you. But you don’t really want to be loved, do you? I’m sure you could find someone who isn’t a broken Vulcan to love you, if that’s what you wanted. And a real crew, but you’ve distanced yourself from those capable of loving you. Because you don’t want to be loved, you don’t think you’re worthy of it. But you do want to be obeyed. You’re really not so different from us. The difference is we’re honest about it.”

Cris launched himself at her, tackling her to the ground. She turned it over on him, pushing him away, as Sylar pulled him back. She shouted an order in Romulan that Cris couldn’t understand, Sylar’s activation disturbing the link enough to make it meaningless to him again, but whatever she said, Sylar stopped, did not attack him, but forced him onto his knees as Narissa laughed, standing up. Sylar’s grip was painful, enough to bruise his shoulders, but he knew if Sylar would use all his strength, that he could crush him.

 _“That’s_ better,” Narissa said as she brushed herself off. “I knew you could make things interesting again.” Narissa took her blaster out as she approached them, aiming it at Cris. “I did a bit of reading on you, files the Zhat Vash have that are erased from Starfleet’s records. What was it your captain did? Through the mouth, right?” She pressed the blaster to his lips. “Brutal visual. Right in front of you.” She used the blaster to lift his chin up, and Cris struggled uselessly against his husband’s firm grip. She had Sylar release him and he fell to the ground. “We should really be moving,” she said over her shoulder after turning around back onto the path towards the settlement. Sylar helped Cris up and Cris looked at him. There seemed to be almost a moment of his _husband_ there in his eyes, before he turned to follow Narissa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S'vec Sylar belongs to Telas_Selar. I hate Narissa.


	4. Buried Alive (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME  
> Caged | Buried Alive* | Collapsed Building*
> 
> Cris, Narissa, and an activated Sylar arrive at the damaged Romulan colony, and start going through the wreckage to find survivors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late, oops. I'll have Day 5's (which I think is the conclusion to this storyline) up later today. After I write it.

Rios was quiet for the rest of the walk, and Narissa didn’t seem to mind it anymore. He supposed her little display of control must have satisfied her for a while. Which is a good thing, because Cris is very tired, his shoulders hurt, he had a couple small scrapes, and he couldn’t take several hours of her mind games. He just wanted his husband back. He wanted to be back on his ship and sleep for a couple days straight while laying in Sylar’s arms, if he could somehow stop himself from having nightmares. This was all very tiring, and they haven’t even started the rescue yet. Besides that brief glimpse of his husband, when he helped him up on his own initiative, when it wasn’t necessary, besides one quick, tantalizing glimpse of the man he loves behind those distant blue eyes that now felt as cold and unforgiving as the sea they always remind him of, Sylar has been like a cold stone wall walking in front of him. Radio silence. Despite the fact that the planet was actually hot, inside Cris felt cold from the emptiness. Cris wanted to hold Sylar, but he knew he would be unresponsive to his touch, and that would just make him feel worse instead of providing the comfort he craved. His body felt numb, his eyes kept wandering to Narissa’s blaster, but never with the intention of shooting her with it. He couldn’t make himself think the other option, either, but his hands shook as he shoved them into his own pockets despite forbidding his mind to go where Narissa’s previous actions implied.

The worst part about this was his distance from Sylar, despite him being only a few feet away. Not working with the Tal Shiar. Maybe that makes him a horrible person, but he would be handling this a lot better if he had his husband there for support. Just feeling his mind was a comfort, and his touch, not to mention his mental discipline that Cris has gotten used to relying on. He felt shaky without it. It’s selfish to think like that, but he knew he could push himself into following orders despite his misgivings, for the greater good, if he had that support. And that’s… That’s what Vandermeer had wanted from him. And he couldn’t give him that. He failed him. He found himself staring at Narissa’s blaster again, but he pulled his gaze away from it instantly when he realized.

Finally, they got to the settlement, and it had been devastated. He didn’t expect anything different, given what little they knew of the attack, but what if there aren’t any survivors? What if they came all this way for nothing?

“Underground. If there are any survivors, they will be in the bunker underground,” Narissa explained.  
“Is that bunker just for the Tal Shiar agents?” Cris asked.  
“And their families,” She said.  
“What about up here? There might be survivors—” Cris protested.  
“They’re all dead, Rios,” she told him.  
“Is that what your tricorder says?” He asked.  
“No one could have survived this out here. If it helps, there are probably children down there,” he’s the sentimental type, right? _Compassion_ dictating his behavior. “The Tal Shiar agents are the priority.”

Cris stared at the rubble, for any signs of life, but seeing none, he reluctantly followed. If they would let him have a tricorder, it would be a lot easier to help with this, but maybe there _are_ life signs still and they didn’t want him to get distracted and slow them down.

“I found them. Their lifesigns are over here.” Narissa said as she found the entrance to the bunker. Cris could hear buildings still collapsing around them. He had to dodge a few large rocks falling on the way over here. The dust in the air was thick, and it made him cough, but as Narissa and Sylar descended into the bunker, he heard a slightly different pattern of thuds than the usual rustle of the debris still settling around them. At first he thought he was imagining it, but then he heard a voice. He was certain there was someone screaming. A small, high-pitched voice. It sounded like a child. “Rios!” Came Narissa’s voice from inside the bunker.  
“Yeah. I’m coming.” But he didn’t stop looking over towards the sound, and when Narissa didn’t bother to call out to him again, he decided to investigate instead.

He walked into the newly made ruins of a nearby building, and the sound grew louder. “Hello? Where are you?” He called out. There were several answering thuds from a nearby pile of debris. “Hang on, I’ve got you.” He said as he began to move the pieces of scrap and damaged stone to get to the person underneath. A young Romulan girl coughed up dirt and dust and gasped for air. She had been buried under there, but it appeared she was mostly in a pocket, after he got the pieces off the top of it. She started speaking in rapid Romulan, but with the link affected by Sylar’s activation, he wasn’t following it. “Whoa, slow down. Are you hurt?” He asked. After a moment of her staring at him, he gestured to some of his cuts (minor, in his case, but he hoped she’d get the point), and repeated, “Hurt?”

She nodded. “… My leg. It’s stuck.”  
So she’s speaks Standard. That’s good. “Can you still feel it?” He asked. She nodded her head again. “Alright, so I’m going to move the debris off your legs and as soon as I do, I’ll need you to pull yourself out, okay? Can you do that?” Another nod. “Good. On the count of three.” He moved to pick up the metal bar that was trapping her legs but luckily not crushing them. “One, two, three.” He lifted the bar and she pulled out, but that caused something to shift above them. “Get down!” He yelled, throwing himself over to protect her from the falling debris and something fell on him, but the girl was safe. _Damn,_ it hurt, though. And… Yeah. He can’t feel one of his legs and that’s really not a good sign.  
“Are you alright?” She asked quietly.  
“Yeah, just… Now my leg is injured too.” He explained.  
She hugged him, crying softly into his shoulder.  
“Hey, shh, it’s alright.” He comforted. “Hey, look at me.” It was getting difficult for him to focus, for him to not show the signs of pain he was in, but he didn’t want to scare her anymore than she already is. “If you run in that direction,” he pointed to where he had come from, “there will be an entrance to a bunker underground. Inside of that, there will be a Vulcan man and a Romulan woman. His name is Sylar and she’s Narissa. There are people in there they are trying to help. I need you to get Sylar for me. He’s my husband. He’ll be able to help me, alright? Vulcans are really strong and he’s a doctor. He’ll be able to help with my injury, and yours. Can you do that for me?” He asked. She nodded. “My name is Cristóbal Rios. What’s your name?”  
“Verelan,” she answered.  
Cris smiled, “nice to meet you, Verelan. Thank you for helping me.” He replied. “Now go get Sylar, tell him that Cris is injured and needs him.”  
She nodded and ran off.

Cris silently prayed that he would come help him. The pain in one of his legs was excruciating, and the lack of pain, of any feeling at all, in the other one was worrying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S'vec Sylar belongs to Telas_Selar.


End file.
